(Three)

Karen sat next to Molly's bed in Med Bay, her face tight with worry. Molly's tiny hands had been bandaged and she had been strapped to the bed just in case she woke violently. Her injuries weren't severe, she just had some deep scratches and had needed a couple of stitches. The girl had been sedated, but had just now started to revive, her eyes puffy and swollen. Karen gently brushed her hair back. "How are you feeling?"

Molly raised her shackled hands and signed clumsily, Tired.

Karen sensed no more violent anger residing in this tiny girl and fumbled with the shackles, releasing her hands. "Do you want anything?"

Call Gambit.

"What?"

Call Gambit for me.

Karen glanced up at Logan who was slouched against the wall beside her, an unreadable look on his face. Kristalay had been taken an hour ago and things were finally settling down. He had come here to lend Karen his support. Karen was glad to have him here and she said to Molly, "Remy's father died. He left after the funeral and no one knows where he is."

Molly began to softly cry in frustration.

"Oh, baby," Karen gently soothed. "What's so important that it can't wait?"

I saw the Lion Man.

"What Lion Man? The one from your dreams? Is that who you think that guy was in the hall?"

Yes. It was the Lion Man. I know it was him.

"What's that got ta do with Gambit?" Wolverine grumbled. His eyes had taken on a glimmer of suspicion. He hadn't been happy about the thief's friendship with this girl and her asking for him now in connection with Sabretooth raised his ire even more. He had been vigilant of the pair, he didn't think Remy had overstepped his bounds – yet. But the way Molly was calling for him made him uneasy. It was like they were lovers already.

Molly continued to feebly sign with her hands, trying to explain. He knows about the Lion Man, he fought a Lion Man before, maybe even the same one. That's why he has those scars. He can help me kill the Lion Man.

Logan shook his head, relieved that Molly wanted Gambit because she thought they shared a common enemy and not a common bed. Still, he wanted Remy nowhere near her and tried to step in thief's place as comforter. "You don't need ta worry about the Lion Man, darlin'. SHIELD took 'im. He ain't ever comin' back, that's a promise."

Molly glanced up at him, unconvinced. He'll get out, he always does. He's the Lion Man.

"Why don't you get some rest," Karen suggested. She could sense the rising tension in the room as Logan's protection gears whirled once more into action. "I'll try to find Remy for you if that's what you want. Sleep, now."

Please. I have to talk to him.

"I'll do my best."

Molly nodded and closed her eyes, curling up on her side and getting comfortable. Karen covered her up gently with the blanket and she and Logan retreated to the hallway. Jean was there. "How is she?"

"She's shaken up, but I think she'll be all right," Karen said. "She'll need some rest, some hugs."

Jean smiled. "I don't think that'll be a problem in this place. She's a good kid."

Henry came from Security, his eyes tired and red. He thumped at the soda machine, brining down a well earned Coke. "Is this a party? I must have missed the invitation," he joked weakly to the crowd.

"How's Kimble?" Logan wanted to know.

"He's still asleep. All's quiet for now. Molly?"

"She's sleeping now, too. She asked for Gambit."

"He's being most uncooperative," Beast said, a smile smoothing the tiredness from his furry face. "He's very good at slipping away when he's in pain. I've had no luck locating him. I'll leave another message on his service."

"Let Molly know if he calls."

"I will. Why don't you get some rest, you both look wiped. I'll let you know if anything changes with Molly."

"Thanks," Karen replied and took Logan's hand, leading him back upstairs.

Wolverine allowed himself to be led away, loving her touch and her smile. He was tired, tired down to his bones and ripped up and bloody. He had washed up a little in the Med Bay bathroom after the SHIELD guys had left, but it wouldn't be enough to erase the damage from the brawl he had just had. The fight with his brother and all of the stress from the past few days had been taking their toll. He felt heavy and knew if he lay down, he could sleep for a week.

Karen took him to her room and tugged him into the shower, dumping his ruined clothing onto the floor like the rags they now were. She washed him, chuckling softly when she saw him close his eyes with contentment. Logan was an odd choice for her, not her typical fare. He was shorter than most men, only about five two or so, but solid muscle. He was hairy, too. He had a light covering of black hair over the top of his back and most of his arms, not something she would normally find appealing. But for some reason the combination of his steel grey eyes and the sly twist of his smile as he would look at her when he thought she wasn't looking made it all worthwhile. Just one minute under that benevolent, loving gaze was enough to melt her heart. Besides, all that hair merely gave her something to grip onto or yank when he got out of hand.

She knew he was a hard man, not one to open up and tell all, but she knew he loved her. She knew it when he turned towards her now and kissed her, leaving his exhaustion behind as his passion for her took over. As rough as he might be with the outside world, he was always gentle with her. He was passionate, full of fire, but touched her carefully as if he might hurt her if he let go with everything he felt inside.

Wolverine would not be considered a romantic by most folks who would stop to look at him, but he had his moments. Like now as he scooped her up, careful not to slip on the bathroom floor, and carried her out to the bed. He had been avoiding her like this for days, lost in survivor mode as he fortified his home, his lair. All that was forgotten now as he finally let go and took her love, using it to heal himself on the inside.

He was quite old and got around. Age can equal knowledge and unlike his half brother, Logan had the honor to learn how to love well. He touched his lover with passion and grace, but also great care. He knew what she liked and didn't like and never forced anything on her she wasn't willing to do. Thankfully, she was quite adventurous, as was he. They, too, had made good use of the flower field, abandoning their favorite spot only when it grew too cold.

How Wolverine loved this woman. He loved the smell of her so close and especially that little sigh she always made as he first plunged into her. She would shiver every time, the ultimate compliment. Her legs would come up around him and he knew no greater heaven. He didn't even care of she yanked on his back hair a little, hell, he even liked it. If they got really rambunctious, she would claw him with her nails, something sure to set him on fire. It did bother her that her hickeys didn't last, though - something he was quite proud of. They would have themselves a nice little chew fest, but it was always her who had to wear a shirt with a high collar. He would walk next to her, trying not to laugh but oh, so proud of his handiwork.

He took her now, loving that little sigh, and wondering why the hell he had waited so long to do this. It wasn't good to hold himself back, but old habits were hard to get rid of. He let go now, happy that she didn't mind at all when he was a little bit rougher than normal. His pace was fast but not frantic and sure enough, her hands came around to grip the longer hair at the nape of his neck.

"Logan..." she breathed, and bucked under him.

She was so easy. So easy to get off he was sometimes jealous. It certainly made his job easier, all kidding aside. A minute later and he was climaxing himself, grunting softly in her ear.

Karen stroked her hands through his long, wild hair and chuckled at his noise, or lack thereof. Being a feral creature also made him quiet by nature. He wasn't loud when he finished, certainly not as loud as Jean and Scott, the guy with the glasses who roomed just next door. Those two could bring the house down if they wanted to. No hiding what they were up to. Maybe Logan was just quiet because they weren't married like his teammates were. Perhaps, if Logan offered himself to her and they married, she would yank on that hair just a little bit harder, just to see if he would make enough noise to raise a few eyebrows in the house.

Afterwards, when they were quiet now, Wolverine drifted off to sleep, her heartbeat soothing him away to pleasant dreams. He had warned her about his violent nightmares, yet he had never had one when he was with her like this. He always dropped off quickly and slept the silent dreams of the truly at peace.

Karen gently stroked his hair back again, too wound up from the day's events to drop off herself. She had a lot to consider. She had been aware of Molly's affections towards Remy, but didn't have the same reservations that Logan did. Sometimes it takes a more objective view to see things clearly. Wolverine saw Remy as shifty, untrustworthy at times, especially when it came to women. She and Logan debated Gambit frequently and Karen was now familiar with his crimes. The problem was, Wolverine was too close to the boy to see him clearly. Remy had honor even if Logan didn't see it. It had come out in his reasons for the Massacre in the first place, Karen reasoned. Misguided intentions aside, Remy had wanted a cure for his destructive lack of control with his powers. He had sought out help for it. If the thief was so horrible, so much a killer, he wouldn't have cared who he might hurt. That meant something to Karen. It was just a shame that the price for that cure had been so high.

Karen also had an idea that Kimble was tied up in Remy's motivations for things, too. Gambit was seeking redemption anywhere he could find it. He had to save Kimble, it was all part of this intense need to make up for things that he carried inside of him. It would probably be an urge, a drive, that he would possess forever. This was Remy's "hero" spirit, the way it would manifest itself for the rest of his life, probably. If he lost Kimble now, Remy might break. Gambit had to get him out of danger no matter what the cost.

Wolverine had listened to Karen's thoughts on the matter and although he was being slow about it, she could see the gears whirling. She had given him a different perspective on things. Still Logan was very stubborn. What about Rogue? That wasn't finished yet, he didn't think.

Karen countered with the idea that maybe Rogue was Remy's punishment. Perhaps he felt he deserved her on some level. If he could convince her he was worthy of her love, he would be free from his demons. He took her punishment, the horrible wrenching of his heart, because he felt he deserved it. He wasn't good enough for anything or anyone else. Maybe, Rogue had left him behind in Antarctica because she had felt his guilt, his need to be punished for his crimes. He had felt he deserved to be left behind like trash and so she had. Rogue had touched him, absorbed his memories, his guilt. Perhaps even his need for that final punishment and had acted on that without knowing.

Logan had scowled at her. "If that was true, what about Molly? What's his interest in her? I ain't happy with what's goin' on there."

Karen smiled. "Maybe Remy had finally decided he had been punished enough. You've seen the change in Rogue, how nice she's been. Remy's hesitating. He's not jumping back."

"Molly's too young fer him," he grumbled, still unwilling to budge.

"Yes, she is. But she won't be forever."

How Logan had fumed quietly at that! Karen let the matter drop, allowing her new love to digest it all. She knew he would come around eventually. With men like Wolverine, all it took was time. Her father had taught her that. In the meantime, all they could do was sit back and watch, wait. Hope that things didn't fall apart too quickly. Hope that Kimble would heal.

(break)

Kimble came slowly awake a few hours later. He'd had the most marvelous dream where his Kristalay had come and swallowed him up in his massive arms and made all of his pain and suffering go away. They made slow, glorious love and Kimble's body tingled and shimmered from the heat of it, that love more powerful and fulfilling than any plasma glow.

Kimble opened his eyes and looked across to Kristalay's empty cell. He gave a soft cry of dismay and pain when he saw he was truly alone. He had been gone almost a year and come full circle 'round with nothing to show for it but the pain and suffering of those who somehow still loved him. He was here, all alone and Masterless once more. He would never consider Remy's ownership of him to be anything more than an empty gesture, a token effort made to thwart 'Shay's ill intentions. Right now, what Lakotashay had to offer was much more appealing. He cried out once, loud and chilling, a sound full of grief and pain and then lay still once more. He retreated deep inside himself, allowing Lin to take his place. He wanted nothing more to do with the outside world.

Bobby was on watch and he immediately called Henry on the intercom. His arms were covered in gooseflesh from Kimble's outpouring of grief and he felt sick. He never wanted to hear that sound again.

Henry came on the double but when he came to Kimble's cell, he thought there must be some mistake. The cell appeared empty. He then realized that the pilot was now hiding under the bed.

Henry entered the cell and crouched down. The pilot had curled up impossibly small, folding himself up as tightly as possible. He had stripped down and used his boxer shorts to bury his head completely, only his nose and mouth was visible. Beast knew then that Lin had done this.

"You all right?" he asked gently, uncovering Lin's face a little and touching his shoulder.

"We stay in the small places. It's safe there," Lin replied softly. His voice was slurred and dreamy, but his cheeks were still wet from tears shed for his poor dead Kristalay. "We'll stay here until 'Shay does fer us. It won't be safe until then."

"What?" Henry asked in confusion. He only understood about half of that, his lessons in Siskan paying off a little, but he needed more time to learn the rest. "It will be all right. We'll take care of you," he offered as consolation. He had to say something to that little child's voice, it had sounded so tired and sad.

"Leave us alone!" Lakotashay hissed, taking over. "There ain't nuthin' left an' there ain't gonna be! Go away!"

"Why are you so angry? You know you didn't kill your Master, there is no reason to be upset."

"Just cuz Zander's sword didn't do the deed don't mean we ain't responsible! If he hadn't come back fer us, he wouldn't've got caught!"

"He came because he loved you."

"An' that love killed him!"

"No, I rather think it saved him, actually."

"You really think so?" came Lin's tiny voice, filled with childish wonder and hope.

Henry took a minute to mentally decipher the Siskan, inwardly cursing the fact that Lin never spoke in any other language. Again he got most of that, the context of it made easier by the sound of Lin's hope mixed in. "Oh, yes. I've never seen him at such peace with himself. You helped him and he loved you for it. You gave him more than anyone ever has, I heard him say it."

"And then gave him a sword in his guts!" 'Shay snarled, returning. "We kills everathin' we touch! We ain't worthy of no more Masters! All we do is kill!"

"It doesn't have to be that way. You have the power to stop it."

"No we don't! It just keeps happnin' The only way it's gonna stop is when we die. That's the only thing that will work, the only way to stop it."

"Our sickness... it's so very bad," Lin said, his voice turning sad and woeful. "We's always been bad. Never been good enough fer nuthin'. Stupid Siskan trash. Ugly an' in the way."

"That's not true and you know it," Henry insisted, knowing that his words were empty. This he had understood because little Lin had so often repeated it for Fallen or Seth to translate for him. He could see that both Lin and Lakotashay seemed to agree on this point and would not be dissuaded easily. It pained Beast to see the Siskan so smashed like this. He remembered how playful and charming Kimble had been on the ship, especially when he and Remy had been dancing. That pilot had been so full of fun, full of life. What he saw before him was a wrecked machine, a creature broken down by violence and intolerance. Fallen should never have rescued him, he believed at that moment. He felt a sharp stabbing pain in his chest when the pilot spoke next.

"It is true! Yer the one who don't know nuthin'! I hates you!" 'Shay replied, her voice full of pain and suffering. "I hates you and evrathin' and evrabody! I hates this place, this stupid, stinkin' life! I hates you, I hates you, I hates you!" She broke down into tears and retreated into the wad of cloth around them. She continued to bawl and was unresponsive when Henry tried uselessly to reason with her again.

'Shay wasn't stupid. She didn't believe Creed when he said the collective personalities weren't some kind of terrible monster just as she knew he'd been lying when he said he would come back for them. She knew what she'd done just as she also knew when she was being jerked around, she told herself stubbornly. They had been accepted among the Sabretooth's motley band of monsters because that was where they truly belonged, there among the damned. No words from a departing Master would change that.

Lakotashay also knew their injuries were fatal even if Henry didn't and it pleased her. Kimble's body couldn't get enough power from the Ristle to heal itself and sustain their life. They were dying slowly and painfully but a slow agonizing death was more than they deserved. They were a disease called pain and suffering and everyone would be better off when they were gone. Until then, she would just shut them down and let death take them at its slow and steady pace, unresistant and compliant.

'Shay's tears trailed off into silence and she grew still, her eyes red and glassy. Henry snapped his fingers in front of the Siskan's face but got no response. He sighed when he saw the pilot was as good as gone. He left swiftly and returned to his lab, resuming his search for the missing Neal Sharra. He was having his doubts he would ever find the lad, the boy certainly knew how to disappear. At the same time, he gave Remy a quick call. He got only the answering service and left a message, hoping Gambit wouldn't take too long to respond. He was discouraged by these small failures, but mostly from Kimble's swift decline.

He stooped over his desk, removing his glasses to rub his eyes. He wasn't prone to despair, having mastered his emotions long ago, it was the scientist in him, but he wasn't immune. He had always been strong. He had been raised by kind and loving parents, they had put themselves in serious hock to pay for his education. It taught him responsibility and gave him a sense of what a true family was. He had repaid their kindness by graduating at the top of his class. Several of his experiments had paid off and he held enough patents to keep him and his parents quite comfortable. He would never forget their sacrifice.

He shivered and a tear escaped him. They had an obligation to save Kimble, the pilot was part of his family now and he had a responsibility to find his trouble and heal him. It was something he didn't seem to be handling very well. He just didn't know what to do for the kid. He knew Kimble was dying, that he was slipping away a degree at a time. Kimble needed energy to keep the cold from his inner core in check. He wasn't getting enough and was gradually freezing to death. Their options for treating this were severely limited. Maybe he could set up a stasis tank to keep him warm, but that would be the same as holding him a hostage in his own body. That was no way to live. Beast sighed in frustration, he was a doctor, a damn good one, but Kimble was clearly beyond his help.

He just hoped Remy would return soon, the word had already come that his father had passed away, the funeral was two days ago. Where the hell was he?